


When Our Hearts Were Intertwined

by TsunamiStarz



Category: DreamSMP
Genre: Based off of the Love or Host stream, Comforting Dave | Technoblade, Eventual Smut, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Ignorant GeorgeNotFound, Jealous Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Perhaps they’re all homiesexual, Use of Real Names, welp
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:14:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26403262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TsunamiStarz/pseuds/TsunamiStarz
Summary: He was indulging too much, he should’ve stepped away; lengthened the space between them rather than increasing it. But he didn’t. And with the lovestruck and heartbroken haze clouding his mind and logical thoughts, a shaky breath escaped his lips as his eyes drifted up to meet the uncertain orbs that stared back.”Can I kiss you?”~~~Clay and George are ex-lovers. That was two years ago. George has let it go, Clay has not.So what happens when George is invited to a dating show, and Clay is asked to come and watch as the one man he truly loved is given away to someone else?
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Dave | Technoblade, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Dave | Technoblade, Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 73
Kudos: 889





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Love or Host stream that happened today.

All of them are so fake.

“Oh I can imagine us perfectly,”

“Oh you’re so cute,”

“We would be such a power couple,”

I felt bile rise up, testing the boundaries of my throat. No, I can’t throw up now. It’s stupid. I shouldn’t still be in love with someone who broke up with me two years ago. Yet I am.

I looked over to Nick, who, unlike me, was getting a kick out of the entire situation. On his other side was Tommy, who was finding it even more entertaining.

We were in a studio, watching random women fawning over George in hopes of dating him or something.

I hadn’t really paid attention, too webbed up in my thoughts to really load in the outside world around me.

This is stupid, really. I could be doing so many other things than sitting here now, watching my life get basically torn away from me. I know I’m being dramatic, but George was my everything. He still is my everything. He just doesn’t know it.

And I guess he will never know it, because at the end of the day, George will go walking out of this building with a new girlfriend, because that’s apparently how it works now.

You don’t spend months and months getting to know each other before genuinely committing to a relationship, no no. You go into a studio and five hours of bickering women later, you have a significant other. It royally pissed me off.

I love George, but he’s an absolute moron.

An absolute moron who’s about to find a new person to spend life with and completely leave me and Nick behind.

An absolute moron about to commit to one of these fakers who just want him for his looks and monetary stability. You don’t choose to love someone solely because of their looks, you have to get to know them too. Something that takes more than five hours to accomplish.

But what do I know, I managed to lose my boyfriend because I apparently wasn’t enough. He broke my heart and pretended nothing happened afterwards, but I didn’t stop loving him; I couldn’t.

Who wouldn’t love George?

I sighed, running a hand through my hair, bouncing my knee impatiently. God just make this torture end, please.

I noticed Nick send a glance at me. “You okay, dude?”

I forced a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m fine,”

_No I’m not._

”Alright, just making sure,”

I continued to bounce my knee, slowly blocking out the surrounding sound. What was the point of me hearing them fighting anyway?

What was the point of me even being there?

Surely not because almost the entire internet knows of me and George’s past. Surely not.

But the more I told myself that it was simply because I was close to George, the more I began to sniff out the lies in my own thoughts.

_These characterless people don’t know George like I do._

I thought, bitterly.

_What have they done to earn his trust and friendship and loyalty? I’ve known him for years, and what, they sit here arguing like kids over a toy?_

The thought of George being shown around as a trophy or toy made my blood boil. I wanted to walk up to the seating area, grab George in my arms, and take him home, where he’d be safe and out of the reaches of the nasty people that sought him out.

But I can’t do that.

George isn’t mine anymore.

And he never will be.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly didn’t expect the positive feedback on the first chapter! So here, have another one :3

I stepped through the studio doors, filling my lungs with the crisp outside air. I couldn’t stand staying in there any longer.

I’d told Nick that it was a little too stuffy inside for me, and that I’d take a break outside, which wasn’t a lie entirely.

God I needed to get away from here.

I quietly walked to the small park across from the studio, finding an empty bench underneath a large oak tree, feeling the comfort of its’ shady embrace from the moment I sat down.

I still couldn’t believe it. George was seriously going to take one of those... those... people... as a girlfriend. He doesn’t even know them!

I sighed, taking my phone from my pocket and catching up on notifications. Nothing new; just a bunch of Twitter notifications and a couple Discord dm’s that I barely glanced at. One dm caught my attention, though. It was from this morning.

**Potatoblade** 10:54 am

Hey, isn’t George doing that dumb dating stream show thing today?

  
  


A cold claw gripped my heart but I still opened the dm and brought my fingers to the keyboard, sorting out a reply.

**Dreamypoo** 2:16 pm

Yeah, he’s on it right as we speak

  
It didn’t take long for him to reply, my phone vibrating as it came in.

**Potatoblade** 2:17 pm

What a nerd, using a dating show to find love. Smh.   
  


A chuckle tickled up my throat, and another message came through before I could respond.

**Potatoblade** 2:17 pm

We all know the proper way to find love is through the Hunger Games.

A fully bloomed laugh shook my chest, the first genuine happiness I’d felt all week, since the announcement of George’s episode was released.

**Dreamypoo** 2:18 pm

Haha of course

There was a silent period of time, I watched as the little typing ...’s appeared and disappeared and reappeared. Brows furrowed, I stared at the screen intently for a moment before letting up and putting the device to sleep and laying it on my lap. I turn my attention to the greenery of the park, watching little finches and ravens flit about the sky and trees. A couple minutes pass, and my phone vibrates again.

**Potatoblade** 2:23 pm

Are you doing okay, Clay? I know it must be hard for you.

The heart-clenching feeling returned. Of course he remembered. I’d told Dave of my post-breakup struggles when I’d first started experiencing them. I didn’t expect him to remember that I still dealt with the same struggles two years later.

**Dreamypoo** 2:25 pm

Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.

**Potatoblade** 2:25 pm

Thats exactly what someone who’s not fine would say, so I’m going to worry about you.

I snorted at this, my eyes drifting to the doors of the studio. Nick would probably be wondering where I was at this point, but I turned my attention back to my phone. This break was for me to clear my head, and I will return once my head has cleared.

**Dreamypoo** 2:26 pm

Well it’s not like I can really stop you, is it?

**Potatoblade** 2:26 pm

Nope.

A weak laugh broke from my lips, and I typed out my next response without really thinking about it.

But my thumb hovered over the send button as I debated whether I should send it. However, the more I thought about it, the more I didn’t want to send it, so I ultimately pressed send and held my breath.

**Dreamypoo** 2:28 pm

Then utilize your worrying by talking to me and keeping my mind off the fact that George is taking a step into a place where I won’t be able to hope to reach him again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George notices the strange behavior that his best friend is exhibiting, but can’t afford to pay it too much attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically the first two chapters from George’s pov.

George resisted the temptation to put his face in his hands and scream. The girls would not shut up. It was pretty blatantly obvious that they were all faking to some extent, and it just made the entire experience awkward and unenjoyable. He’d agreed to come onto the show as a joke, but when it spread on Twitter, fans started taking it seriously and made it a whole ordeal.

He’d then heard that Clay had also been interviewed to potentially be on the show. What an experience that would’ve been.

Speaking of whom, Clay had been awfully quiet since the beginning of the show. It wasn’t like him to stay so quiet for so long, but it wasn’t like George could get up and comfort his best friend, asking him what was wrong.

Tommy and Nick were acting completely different from Clay, laughing their asses off at every question Austin asked the girls, and at every girl’s response.

It gave him some hope to get through this, but it also made him think way too hard about how stupid he probably looked.

His attention was forcibly moved, however, when he saw Clay stand up with a pale face and walk to the doors of the studio, going outside. Now, George theorized swiftly and widely as to why this happened. He settled on it being the environment of the studio. It was very, almost, humid inside, with seemingly no ventilation.

Honestly, George would’ve gotten up and gone outside with Clay if he wasn’t the main protagonist of the livestream.

George began to finally be able to tune out the girls’ voices as he watched the clock on the wall like a hawk. Seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into nearly an hour, and Clay hadn’t come back inside.

It began to worry George, he hoped his best friend was safe. He longed to stand up and go outside and search for the tall dirty blonde.

But alas, he couldn’t. He was committed to something he wished to leave altogether.

He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be outside, with Clay. Maybe not even that. Just at home with him.

But he couldn’t. Not only because of the show, but for reasons he chose to ignore.

Years ago, he’d gotten pretty heavily drunk without telling anyone. He’d been suffering from the death of an aunt he’d loved dearly, and decided to cope the worst way possible. In his drunken and hurt state, he’d managed to break up with his boyfriend. George didn’t usually drink alcohol at all, which made trying to explain really difficult. So when he’d tried to explain it to his boyfriend, he’d been ignored. He’d been ignored for an entire two weeks.

George would’ve been able to get over it with time had his boyfriend not been the one man he called his best friend, Clay.

George’s mind drifted off into a distant land, one where he’d been able to avoid the breakup altogether; how happy they’d both be now. Together.

Yeah, they’d eventually came back to being friends, but it only hurt George more. He still loved Clay, he loved Clay so much, but he’d buried his feelings to the dark depths of his subconscious. Never again would he let them show themselves. George would be damned to risk their friendship to try and enter a relationship again.  
  


Clay didn’t love him anymore.

The thought bounced around in his head, trying to beat down his desire to go find his best friend and make sure he was fine.   
  


Clay didn’t love him anymore.

So why did his heart refuse to let him go?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet y’all didn’t see that one coming.
> 
> Be prepared to suffer through their ignorance.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clay lost track of time.
> 
> But does it really matter?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya yeet
> 
> Short chapter, I’m sorry. But read the note at the end.

By the time Clay ended the call, it was narrowed down to the last two girls from the original eleven.

Nick severely narrowed his eyes as Clay snuck back into the studio, silently taking his seat and avoiding all eye contact.

“What the hell took you so long?” The Texan questioned.

Clay looked up and met Nick’s dark eyes, the Texan’s gaze cold and annoyed but also concerned.

“I- well...” Clay subconsciously reached up to card a hand through his dirty blonde hair. “My mom called me, and you know how talkative she gets when given the right topic,”

Nick raised a brow but nodded and said nothing more, returning to watching George.

Clay hated having to lie straight through his teeth to one of his closest friends, but it was necessary. Nick couldn’t know why Clay had stepped outside; Nick couldn’t find out that he was going to Dave to please the lonely side of him.

Clay sucked in a quiet but sharp breath. He hadn’t realized it until just then. He really was going to Dave for comfort and love, when the pink-haired man was most definitely not interested in providing what Clay sought out. Dave hadn’t ever engaged in a romantic relationship prior to now and probably still has no intent to.

Clay rested his elbows on his knees and stuffed his face into his hands. He really was messed up, wasn’t he? Still in love with the man that broke up with him—two years ago, mind you—and going to someone with probably no interest in romance to fill that gap.

But alas, his heart still cried out for something, some _one_ , to love and be loved by. He longed to not have to go to bed cold anymore. He longed for sleepy cuddles, tender kisses, heated makeouts; all of the intimate things that came along with having a romantic partner. And Clay knew he was looking in the wrong places, but he couldn’t stop himself. The desire to be close to someone again was too strong, and it was making him think and act irrationally.

Seriously. All he and Dave talked about was video ideas and plans for future collaborations, and yet his stomach had held a furious flurry of butterflies that only got worse with every time Dave had spoken. It was almost a relief when Clay ended the call. Almost.

Because then Clay remembered why he’d called Dave in the first place: George, and the stupid dating show stream.

Speaking of which, George was about to make his final decision.   
  


Clay bit his lip. Maybe he should have stayed outside longer. Maybe he shouldn’t have come in the first place. Sour thoughts flooded his mind, resentment flowing just as powerfully.

Clay was luckily interrupted before he could let the emotions really get to his head. That is, until he actually paid attention to the words that had interrupted him.

”Congratulations, Minx! You have won Love or Host featuring GeorgeNotFound!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I have news! I personally decided that I want to post daily for the entirety of October. Now, I’m not going to be updating a singular fic daily, I have a schedule of 7 of my fics (so one fic per day of the week) and I will be updating according to that schedule. Great news is that this fic is one on that list! (Hopefully) If I can stay on schedule, this fic will be updated Every Friday of the month, so I hope y’all are hyped!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clay has a “Hello Darkness, my old friend,” moment. And also a bit of a tantrum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short, crappy, and kinda a meme but here, have it anyway.
> 
> This also wasn’t beta read because it’s 3 am and I’m so tired.

A girl with dark makeup and weirdly colored hair was chosen. What had George’s taste fallen to?

Clay deadpanned at the appearance of the girl. Obviously appearance isn’t everything, but it still counts for some part of first impressions, and Clay wasn’t getting any good vibes from this “Minx”. Of course, it wasn’t his right to state any judgements on her. After all, this wasn’t his guest-starring on the dating show, it was George’s.

Still, he couldn’t help but pick out every detail that just made her worse in comparison to Clay himself. He was salty. He knew he was being an absolute ass but he couldn’t help it; George used to be his, and now he was being forced to watch George make a downgrade in the significant-other department.

Clay had to suppress his huff as the stream continued, only showing George and Minx talking more. This was boring, it was all boring. He was hungry, he wanted to be anywhere other than this stuffy studio. He resorted to sifting through his phone again, and in that time, the screen lit up with his mom’s name, the device buzzing with the receival of the call. He cursed under his breath and quickly excused himself outside, silently thanking his mother for calling at that moment.  
  


* * *

George immediately noticed when Clay stood up again, heading towards the door with his phone in hand. It made his stomach clench, knowing Clay was going to be out of his close proximity again. He didn’t want to do this anymore; he’d been there for over four hours now. George just wanted to go home and chill with his best friends. He wanted to be able to curl up in a blanket next to Clay and reminisce about the days before he’d made one of the biggest mistakes he could recall.

As much as George wanted his old life back, he knew the chance of him getting Clay back was nonexistent, so he tried to focus on the task at hand. Who knows, maybe Minx was the answer to his issue.

* * *

Slipping his earbuds in, Clay answered the call as he felt his phone buzz with an incoming message. He proceeded to greet his mom as he read the message.

**  
Potatoblade** 4:47 pm

This is boring to watch, I can’t imagine how boring it is to experience this in person.  
  


**Dreamypoo** 4:47 pm

It’s dreadful.

His mom had somehow managed to completely change the subject of their conservation in a matter of seconds, and he’d already lost track.

**Potatoblade** 4:48 pm

I’m sorry man.   
  


**Dreamypoo** 4:49 pm

It’s fine.

Clay was able to regain his bearings on his call with his mom after she asked him how he’d been today. He put on a fake smile, despite her not being able to see him, and told her his day had been great. It was mainly for himself. If he could convince her he had a great day, maybe his day will improve significantly.

But he severely doubted that. Everything would stay the same as long as he was home. So, this roused a new idea in his mind. He quickly typed, deleted, and rewrote his message before finding himself content and pressing send.

**Dreamypoo** 4:52 pm

How would you feel if I flew out to you in California for a few days to clear my head? 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter from Dave’s pov! Enjoy!
> 
> Also this is a lot of dialogue/messaging, I’m sorry-

**Dreamypoo** 4:52 pm

How would you feel if I flew out to you in California for a few days to clear my head?   
  


When I first read the message, I had to do a double-take. Clay wanted to fly out to California...

I knew that this whole ‘George dating show’ ideal was gonna mess with his head, but... I didn’t expect him to get this irrational.

**Potatoblade** 4:55 p.m.

Ah yes, let the two nerds who haven’t shown their faces to anybody meet up. That surely won’t cause issues.  
  


I chuckled as I watched the typing ...’s form almost immediately after the message was sent.

**Dreamypoo** 4:55 p.m.

Haha very funny. Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?

**Potatoblade** 4:56 p.m.

I’m not on anybody’s side, lover boy.   
  


**Potatoblade** 4:56 p.m.

Anarchy is the best policy.

  
I snorted as I sent this, not really knowing what drove me to type it out. Actually wait, I know exactly why I typed it out. Because anarchy is the best policy.

**Dreamypoo** 4:57

You are a handful. And you didn’t even answer my question.

I thought for a moment. Did it really bother me that he wanted to fly out? Surely not. I’ve known him for a while—we _do_ go way back, after all—so I shouldn’t be hesitant to say yes. After all, he didn’t even ask if I were to be housing him—he isn’t some homeless orphan, after all—so it wouldn’t be much on me. If anything, I’d just get to see what he looked like.

 **Potatoblade** 4:58 p.m.

Sure, loser. You can fly out and see me, that doesn’t bother me. I’m not that special but okay.   
  


**Potatoblade** 4:59 p.m.

Also be sure to bring money, I’m currently broke and can’t afford a sandwich.

**Dreamypoo** 5:00 p.m.

That’s what live-streaming is for.

This elicited a laugh from me, which unintentionally spooked my dog who was sitting on my bed behind me. The golden retriever looked up at me as I turned to make sure she was okay, and she only wagged her tail a few times before laying her head back down on her paws. I turned back to my computer.

**Potatoblade** 5:00 p.m.

That isn’t incorrect. But bring money with you anyway. I’m not sharing my future sandwich funds.

I could clearly imagine the teakettle-like laugh that Clay was ever-so famous for that he would probably let out at that moment. I am very funny after all.

**Dreamypoo** 5:01 p.m.

I’ll be sure to do just that. When should I come out?

**Potatoblade** 5:01 p.m.

I thought you already did. Well, in that case, that sounds like a very personal problem that you should not be asking me about.

**Dreamypoo** 5:02 p.m.

Smartass, you know what I mean.

Another laugh. I was getting too much enjoyment out of messing with him, but honestly, when do I not enjoy messing with people?

**Potatoblade** 5:03 p.m.

Do I?

Before I let him get too far, I quickly typed a logical answer to his question, also intending to turn the conversation serious again after being guilty of veering it off in the first place.

**Potatoblade** 5:03 p.m.

I mean, you can fly out whenever you want to. I would assume you want to get away from all this George mess, so sooner rather than later?

The ...’s stopped momentarily before appearing again.

**Dreamypoo** 5:04 p.m.

That would honestly be great. And yeah, that’s exactly what I’m running away from.

**Potatoblade** 5:04 p.m.

Is this really something you should be running away from?

The moment I sent the message, a pit of regret churned in my stomach and I mentally slapped myself afterward. Unlike seconds before, evidence of his activity didn’t appear immediately and I sat there wondering why I felt the nerve to push him like that. As I went to quickly apologize, Clay replied.

**Dreamypoo** 5:05 p.m.

Yes.

I decided not to push him further, opting to look up flights from Orlando to Los Angeles. Obviously, flights to the opposite side of the country weren’t cheap, but I still bit my cheek at the prices of tickets. Even flights with stops were severe. I pulled up the tab with my messages with Clay.

**Potatoblade** 5:07 p.m.

Not gonna lie, we might need to livestream just for plane ticket funds.

I hoped this would ease the tension a little bit, returning to my research. An alert popped up and I checked his reply.

**Dreamypoo** 5:07 p.m.

Why are you also checking tickets? I thought you weren’t going to share your sandwich funds.

**Potatoblade** 5:08 p.m.

Well I won’t be able to not share my sandwich funds to the fullest extent if you aren’t here in person, and I was curious if they were something you were going to be able to afford. If you need help farming those donations during stream, I’d be happy to help a smaller creator.  
  


 **Dreamypoo** 5:08 p.m.

I think I can manage. Plus, I don’t even stream on YouTube.

**Potatoblade** 5:08 p.m.

Oh right, you’re a Twitch dweller.

**Dreamypoo** 5:09 p.m.

Why did that sound like an insult?

**Potatoblade** 5:09 p.m.

That’s because it was. With a side of extra condescendence and sarcasm.

**Dreamypoo** 5:10 p.m.

Right. I should’ve known.

**Potatoblade** 5:10 p.m.

You really should’ve. Where’s all that IQ that thousands of people make repetitive compilations on?

**Dreamypoo** 5:11 p.m.

That’s a great question that I wish I could answer.

**Potatoblade** 5:11 p.m.

Disappointing.

**Dreamypoo** 5:11 p.m.

I’m sorry.

**Potatoblade** 5:12 p.m.

Pathetic.

I snorted, minimizing the tab again as I decided to browse YouTube rather than look at plane tickets that aren’t even for me. Finding nothing interesting, I decide to open Minecraft, selecting one of the numerous MrBeast videos on the channel to play as background noise before I see an alert pop up.

**Dreamypoo** 5:16 p.m.

Hey, is in three days good?

Three days. Three days. My fingers find the keyboard before I realize what’s going on.

**Potatoblade** 5:15 p.m.

Sure man.

  
Three days until I see his face. Underlying excitement starts to surface within me. That is, until I see his next message.

**Dreamypoo** 5:16 p.m.

Is it cool if I crash at yours or no?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta reading gang, rise up.
> 
> Also yes, I headcanon Techno having a golden retriever in my fics. She is nameless, though, so...
> 
> If anyone wants to suggest a name that can then be used in every other fic that I write that she appears in, feel free to comment.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George confronts Clay. Interrogation ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry for the delay. I hit a really bad writer’s block for all of my fics and it was hard to pick up stories. But here, have this chapter.
> 
> ✨not beta’d bc it’s 1 am and I am about ready to hard shut off✨

**Potatoblade** 5:05 p.m.

No. Absolutely not. I’m not letting some homeless guy just stay in my home.

**Dreamypoo** 5:05 p.m.

🥺

**Potatoblade** 5:06 p.m.

Ah yes. I shall be swayed by a little yellow face making the same puppy-dog eyes I see every day from my actual dog.

**Potatoblade** 5:06 p.m.

Your persuasion skills suck, my answer is still no.

I laughed quietly, sliding my phone in my pocket as I walked back in to the studio. To my surprise—and utter relief—it seemed as though the stream had been wrapped up in my absence, with Austin conversing with George and Minx, and Nick and Tommy giggling to themselves.

Nick caught my gaze, and with a roll of his eyes, stood and met me in the middle of the hall.

”You alright, man? You’ve been super distant for the past few hours,” He questioned with a raised brow.

”Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve just got a lot on my mind, is all,” I winced at the waver in my voice. Nick’s brow, somehow, raised higher and I bit back a sigh. He knew me well enough to depict a lie expertly, like a fox tracking a mouse under layers of snow.

But if he had questions about the blatant lie—which he most definitely did—he didn’t mention any of them. My gaze trailed over to George, who was just grabbing his jacket off his chair before turning to walk towards us. George sighed loudly as he stepped up beside Nick. “We ready?” He asked, his eyes betraying just how tired he was.

I gave a short nod, and looked over to where Tommy was engaging in a small conversation with Austin.   
  


“Tommy!” I called, my voice cracking minimally, eliciting a small snort from Nick. The blond boy turned his gaze to me. “Let’s get going, unless you wanna stay here for the rest of the day,”

I could barely hear a “Ah hell no,” from the teen before he bolted up and walked to us, leaving Austin hastily. We all collectively walked outside to my car, a tight silence filling the air. Of course, Nick and Tommy naturally decimated that silence once in the car, filling the backseat with the natural banter that the blond drew from people. George was falling asleep—or was trying to—in the passenger seat beside me, allowing me to steal small glances at him; his soft pink lips, his defined cheeks, the pale expanse of his neck. I bit my lip, forcing my gaze back to the road, intrusive thoughts trying to distract me; trying to remind me of how I’d hold the brunette softly yet firmly, marking up his neck and shoulders, making sure any eyes who dared look upon him knew that he was mine.

A shiver jolted up my spine, and I had to force my mind to focus. Or at the very least, think about something different. So I thought about how I was going to see Dave in three days.

_I should start packing when we get home._

A gentle thrum of excitement filled my bones as the full dawn of the realization hit me. I was going to see one of my closest friends, in person, in three days! The thought definitely helped to bring up my mood as I was able to shift my attention away from George for the first time since the beginning of the day.

* * *

Once getting home after dropping Tommy off at his parents’ house, I immediately grabbed a suitcase from my closet. Dresser drawers were haphazardly opened and closed as I drastically overpacked. I didn’t know how long I was going to be there, and it was better to have things and not need them than need them and not have them. Obviously I didn’t pack all my essentials; after all, the trip wasn’t for another three days, and I kind of needed my toothbrush and shampoo for the days prior to my flight.   
  


It was a relatively clean, easy, and relaxing process, packing. It gave me time to just think to myself without having any outside distractions. More specifically, George. The brunette plagued my mind, clouding around every conscious thought like worker bees surrounding their hive, stingers at the ready, prepared to sacrifice their lives attacking any threat. George was attacking every thought process in my mind, and I didn’t have any bug repellent to take care of it.

As I was zipping up the last pocket of the suitcase, a knock came to the door.   
  


“Come in,”

The brunette already occupying my mind enough walked through the open doorway, leaning against the wall with a raised eyebrow, gaze pointedly pinned on the suitcase resting on my bed.

”I heard unusual bursts of activity coming from this room and came to investigate. What’s the suitcase for?” George’s intense brown eyes locked with my gaze, and any confident words died on my tongue.

”Uh... well, I uh... I’m going on a trip...”

If my hands hadn’t been occupied, I would have facepalmed so hard that a red handprint would’ve surely been visible on my face.

”Oh my god, really? Wow!” George rolled his eyes. “I would’ve never guessed a packed suitcase would’ve correlated to the action of taking a trip,”

I grabbed a clean sock—that I’d somehow missed when packing—and threw it at him. He obviously avoided it, with a faux disgusted look pinned on the fabric, before turning to me with a look of betrayal. “How dare you,”

”It was clean, you nimrod,”

”Still! The audacity!”

”You’re so dumb,” I couldn’t help the fond smile and soft tone that broke through for a moment before it was schooled away swiftly.   
  


George’s smile drifted as well, and he crossed his arms. “So, where to? This seems really spur-of-the-moment. You haven’t mentioned going on a trip before this. Is everything all good?”

_No._

“Yeah! Just... just going out to, uh...”

  
_Do I lie?_

George raised a brow again.

~~_Yes._~~ _No._

I sucked in a sharp breath. “..California,”

The raised brow only lifted higher, shock stiffening George’s body. “California?”

I nodded, turning my gaze back to my suitcase to unzip the front pocket in preparation to retrieve the revolting sock.

”Why? That seems a little...”

”Stupid? Insane? Idiotic?”

”Your words, not mine,”

Despite the humorous undertone in George’s voice, I still felt pinned under the brunette’s cold, questioning gaze, which I refused to meet.

”I just... need to clear my head?” That wasn’t a lie. “And I need a change of scenery. I haven’t gone on vacation in a while, and I thought it’d be a good time now since there isn’t much planned for the next few weeks,” Also not a lie. Our calendar was blank for the next three weeks, giving me the perfect opportunity to leave and have wiggle room for the return flight.

George’s head shook in my peripheral. “Understandable. But why all the way across the country?”

_I’m going to go see Dave as a distraction from_ you.

”I don’t know. I just thought it’d be cool, I guess. Haven’t been to Cali in a long time,” Aggravation most definitely seeped into my tone at the repeated questions. Some lies were necessary. I wasn’t going to just tell George that I was going to see Dave, or else that’d spawn an entirely new armada of questions that I did not have the patience to answer or even think about.

It was this moment that I decided to be brave enough to connect gazes with the brunette, catching the skeptical look in his hazelnut orbs. But if George had any more questions, he didn’t make them know as he bent down to grab the sock from the floor before chucking it at me and leaving the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did fall off the face of the earth for a moment there but I managed to re-enter orbit safely without destroying myself or the planet (I am a star after all)


End file.
